[00:17.86]like those clever traps a bit of wire a rusty barb
[00:22.96]I've seen some people set and never check for prey
[00:28.69]there are tripwires in the righteous sneers of some of us
[00:33.60]in their boots they carry the seeds of all those vines they cut
[02:06.06][00:39.43]in the papers of the pigs and the whispers of the kids there was one word
[02:15.60][00:49.68]feels like this room is getting small, we're only talking to the walls
[01:06.93][01:00.37]take heed, warning, whisper, not me
[01:44.45]this is just snare and snarl, raccoon blood and kerosene
[01:49.18]a wasted feeling, eating paper like a trick
[01:55.63]by this threadbare chord held together so we're connected tightly but only just
[02:26.55]feels like this room is getting small, soon there will be no room at all